


Just a Little Late-Night Snack

by Strings (fangirlgeekout)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Castiel in the Bunker, Human Castiel, M/M, Post-Season/Series 08, Tickling, Ticklish Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 05:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2417258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlgeekout/pseuds/Strings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Human!Cas is gradually learning to see worth in some of the slow & quiet times that come along with mortality. At least until Dean’s appetite interferes.</p><p>---</p><p>
  <i>He was still realizing how important physical contact was. After Falling, the first hug he had received seemed to awaken a craving he never knew he’d had. Castiel had watched humanity rise into civilization and knew how they required each other. He just never understood how or why touch played such a substantial role. The discovery that now, in this era of skyrocketing human technology, it seemed that people touched each other far less than they ever had before, was minorly distressing in his newfound mortal state. He desired contact in a way he still didn’t comprehend. So he was more than happy to take what he could get, which was currently in the form of nestling into Dean on the couch.<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Little Late-Night Snack

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think that Dean occasionally watches channels like The Food Network when Sam’s not around to poke fun.
> 
> Originally posted Dec 2013 on [Tumblr](http://wordstrings.tumblr.com/post/70032817203/just-a-little-late-night-snack).

The television rambled softly in the background as Dean pulled his ex-angel closer to his chest. He adjusted his own weight a little to find optimum comfort in the way they sat together, propped up at the end of the couch. He planted a kiss in the mussed dark hair in front of him before returning his attention to the flickering screen that lit the otherwise darkened room.

Cas nestled back into Dean’s warmth. He was learning to appreciate things like this. Adjusting to his abruptly human life was a struggle, and how slowly everything moved - from travel, to his body’s healing process, to the moments or hours without anything purposeful to  _do_  - was a source of much frustration. But Dean was helping him see the joy in some of the slow times. Like taking an hour or or two before bed to watch mildly entertaining TV while curled up on the couch with a cup of decaf coffee and some company.

He was still realizing how important physical contact was. After Falling, the first hug he had received seemed to awaken a craving he never knew he’d had. Castiel had watched humanity rise into civilization and knew how they required each other. He just never understood how or why touch played such a substantial role. The discovery that now, in this era of skyrocketing human technology, it seemed that people touched each other far less than they ever had before, was minorly distressing in his newfound mortal state. He desired contact in a way he still didn’t comprehend. So he was more than happy to take what he could get, which was currently in the form of nestling into Dean on the couch.  
  
Not that that’s all it was, though - a simple fulfillment of a base want. No. Dean had always been of import to him, from the very beginning. At first he was The Righteous Man, worth protecting and supporting in his fated role. But after that, when he slid back into being just Dean (which, really, he had always been; Cas just had to learn to see past the part he’d been made to play), his powerful drive to defend, repair, and love, in his own broken way - it was arresting, and always drew Cas back to him.   
  
It had been a source of immeasurable relief when Dean first hinted at returning his affections. Hinted, of course, because actually coming out and saying so was something Cas quickly learned he should never expect. He picked up on reading into the little things. But he was glad they weren’t all just little things anymore.

Cas smiled to himself when another kiss was pressed to his head. The television show didn’t matter; he could never really follow whatever it was they watched (tonight it was an angry-looking man who kept shouting at people in a kitchen) but that was hardly the point. He took another sip from the aromatic mug cradled in his hands and leaned back into Dean’s shoulder.

Warm breath ghosted on his neck. Dean evidently wasn’t paying much attention to the show either. Cas hummed when the lips finally made landfall at the side of his throat.

Dean inhaled the scent of coffee as he kissed down Cas’ neck to the soft spot at the crook of his shoulder. He played over the skin there until he heard the breathy sound that usually preceded a giggle. He smiled into a final peck and lifted his head to resume watching the TV. Or, at least, trying to. His eyes kept wandering back to the way Cas’ long fingers trailed absentmindedly along the rim of his mug. 

He managed a few short minutes of focus until he felt Cas snuggling back into him again.

"You’re really distracting, you know that?" he said, ducking down to Castiel’s neck again and speaking directly into the sensitive spot. "I can’t concentrate on the show when you keep wriggling around."

Cas tried not to squirm, though he was fairly sure that had been the intent of the hunter’s mouth, despite its words to the contrary. “I’m sorry.”

"I don’t think you are."

"No, I’m not."

Dean growled and started nibbling along the top of his shoulder. Cas grinned and hunched up. A hand came up to push against the side of his head, trying to force an opening to get at the tender skin. He giggled a protest.

"Ugh, distracting  _and_  adorable,” Dean complained between nips. “How do I even stand you?”

Cas rolled his neck to displace the affectionate attack. He turned over his shoulder in hopes of catching Dean’s lips with his own, but the interfering hand reappeared and shoved playfully at his cheek.

"Quit your damn diversions. I’m hungry and you make a good late-night snack." Dean bit the nape of his neck. 

Cas  _eep_ ed and leaned forward as much as the arms wrapped around his middle would allow. “You’re going to make me spill this all over you,” he threatened, brandishing his hot mug. 

Dean reached out and snatched it deftly from his hand, and heaved them both sideways until he could reach the coffee table to set it down. He struggled a little to right himself again with the ex-angel starting to fight his grasp. “Hey, you’re not allowed to leave the table until everyone is finished,” he chuckled.

Cas giggled when the warm mouth returned to his neck, teasing up a rash of goosebumps. He flattened back against Dean’s front as tightly as he could to cut off access.

Undeterred, Dean wrapped his legs around Cas’ waist. He thrust the unwilling shoulders away from his chest, enthusiastically mouthing over Cas’ upper back through his shirt.

"Agh! Nohoho!" Cas laughed and folded over, but Dean followed, teeth scraping over his shoulder blades. "NO, DOHOHON’T!" His wings no longer existed, but that area of his back was still hypersensitive. He erupted with a bright peal of laughter when the hunter nibbled along the edges of the wide flat bones. 

Dean pressed more firmly down on Cas’ shoulders to minimize the evasive twisting. This was one of his favorite spots to tease. If he was gentle enough, he could draw out some of the blissful sounds Cas used to make when he’d stroke his wings. But if he wasn’t in the mood to be so soothing - which, right now, he definitely wasn’t - he loved taking advantage of how magnificently ticklish Cas was here. He gnawed a bit more insistently, eliciting a gleeful squeal.

"Mmm, tasty," he grinned. "A little tough, though. Gotta tenderize it." He shifted his grip from Cas’ shoulders and wiggled his fingers down under his arms, launching a long string of giggles.

"I am  _nohohot_  fit for consuhuhuhumption!”

"Nope, not yet…" Dean continued his assault for another moment before backing off and allowing Castiel to catch his breath. He wrapped his arms around Cas’ upper body to gently pull him back upright against his own chest.

Castiel tensed when he felt the hunter’s breath on his neck again, but a soft nuzzle was all that came of it. Dean’s fingers were starting to trace up and down his arms, which Cas always found supremely relaxing. Apparently Dean knew that a little incentive helped speed the forgiveness process, even though Cas never really minded so much as the hunter thought he did. Not like he’d ever actually say so, though, since Dean hardly needed any more reasons to tickle him senseless. He sank back into the warm body behind him with a serene sigh. 

A satisfied noise rumbled close to his ear. “See, the right marinade can really bring out all the subtle flavors.” Then Dean was kissing his neck again, which was pleasant, but he was making all sorts of indecent sounds between exaggerated lip-smacking. 

Cas groaned. “I thought you were finally being nice.”

"I’m always nice," Dean scolded. Then, "I heard that."

"Heard what?"

"The sound of that stupidly rude eye roll you just did."

He supposed Dean knew him too well. 

"I think there’s a button somewhere to turn that off." The hunter was fumbling around Cas’ hands, intertwining fingers and pulling them together toward the top of his chest. Cas started to object that he had no such mechanical function, but then his wrists were being pinned together in one strong grip at his sternum and Dean’s free hand was poking at his stomach. "It’s around here, I’m pretty sure…"

"Dean, no!" he squeaked. But the legs around his waist pressed down on his thighs and the hunter was leaning back, pulling Cas with him. The hem of his shirt rode up and those sly fingers were playing along the exposed skin just above his waistband. He laughed and squirmed, tugging ineffectually on his captive wrists.

"I swear I found it once before…" Dean slipped his hand under the shirt and spidered further up Cas’ taut belly. That evoked a fresh burst of laughter and contortions, and Dean tightened his grip with a warm chuckle. "I must be close."

Cas shook his head and spouted helpless giggles when Dean circled his belly button. “Oh, wait, is this it?” he heard Dean asking. “Right here. Do you still feel the need to insult me via facial expression after I push this?”

He squealed at the finger wiggling in his navel. “Nohohoho!”

"Are you sure?"

"YEHEHES!"

"Good." Dean released his various holds and allowed Castiel to untangle himself from his limbs. He laughed when the ex-angel curled up on his side and pouted up at him. "I never understood people who say they don’t eat anything with a cute face," Dean said as he studied the disarray of tousled hair, blue eyes, and flushed cheeks that adorned his chest. "I mean, look at you. You look delicious." He grabbed one of Cas’ hands and brought it up to his lips, brushing over the knuckles.

Cas blushed and smiled shyly. He scooted up until he could deposit a kiss under Dean’s jaw, then burrowed into his neck with a drowsy sigh.

"Ready for bed, angelcakes?" A sleepy nod answered. "Alright, let’s go." Dean stretched for the remote and clicked off the television.


End file.
